Once Upon a Starry Night
by Pelkasauras -Cherry3456
Summary: Everyone has their Christmas memories, the tales they tell at friendly gatherings, to children, to grandchildren. Some make you laugh, some make you cry, and some touch your heart. But one thing remains constant in every Christmas story: they are all unforgettable. (Collection of Harvest Moon Starry Night/Christmas One-shots. :))


**A/N: **Right-o. I just want to write a lot of Christmas one-shots, some family/friends, some romance fluff. I know Thanksgiving was only like two days ago. I don't care. :P

On that note, I've decided that I'm calling it Christmas, even though the tradition in Harvest Moon is called the Starry Night Festival. Sue me, I dare you. But it's just easier to call it Christmas and to treat it like Christmas. Really, the two holidays are the same thing. Exchange gifts, spend time with family, all that jazz.

One more thing, and then you can read: I do accept requests! In fact, I encourage them. In this type of case it's a lot easier to be given a prompt than to come up with these things from scratch.

Without further ado, this first chapter is going to be about our good friends Julia and Mirabelle. Enjoy! :)

**The Letter**

Mirabelle sunk down into the old couch with a heavy sigh. Today marked the anniversary. It had been twenty years since her husband's death. One would think she would be able to move on with her life and be happy even though it was the 21st of Winter, but every time the day came around, she was sad, angry, and frustrated. In fact, today she was so cross that she scolded Julia simply because she didn't set up their Christmas tree correctly, and now the poor girl was off brooding in her bedroom. Mirabelle felt bad, of course, but as of that moment she was more preoccupied with thoughts of her husband than her daughter.

She picked up a mug of hot coco from the coffee table and took a sip, savoring the flavor and the feeling of warmth on her hands. Twenty years ago today, she had received the letter that confirmed his death. He was a sailor on a commercial fishing boat, and a good one, too, but young. So, so young. Mirabelle was Julia's age when he had proposed, but his contract called him to serve his ship one more year until he could settle down and help with the store at Sunshine Islands. They had a spring wedding, and then he left shortly after.

They wrote lovely letters back and forth every week, but Mirabelle became worried when he stopped replying for almost a season. It was then that she received word from the boat's captain saying her husband caught a horrible sickness while aboard the ship, and they were too far from any port to see a doctor and buy more medicine. They tried, of course, but he died a day before they docked back at the city. Mirabelle had never fully recovered from his death, and she wasn't sure she ever would.

Julia reminded her of him, though. That girl had his eyes, as well as his soft adoration for animals, the same love that led Mirabelle to open the shop on the islands. He had been kind, courteous, and charming all at the same time, and Mirabelle fell for him in an instant. He fell for her, too, and not only because she had the looks of a Goddess back then, but he always said he fell for Mirabelle's soft smile and her kind words.

They dated for three years before he finally proposed. Her less-than-kind father had told Mirabelle all her life that love was something you had to settle for. But Michael wasn't someone she had settled for. Michael was someone she couldn't live without.

Her eyes filled with tears at that thought. "Oh, Michael," she whispered. "How has it been this long, and I still can't forget you?"

She stayed quiet after that, trying to reminisce happy memories that would make the tears go away, like the first time they kissed or when Mirabelle told him that she was pregnant right after their marriage. But nothing worked. The woman sat there crying, her constant strong demeanor gone, replaced by a person that acted more like a child than a grown woman.

It was then that a small squeaking noise came from the hallway next to the living room. Mirabelle looked up, and there was Julia, standing by the open door, her eyes streaked with tears just like Mirabelle's. Immediately, the woman's heart melted, and she held back more sobs.

"I...I'm so sorry, Julia," Mirabelle said hoarsely. "You know what day it is, I...I didn't mean it, dear."

Julia sniffled, and replied, "No, Ma, it's not that. It's..." she trailed off, but walked closer to the couch, and pulled a small white envelope from behind her back. "I know I shouldn't have read it," she whispered. "I know it's yours. But it was addressed to you and I found it in a dusty box under my bed because I thought maybe...maybe if I cleaned my room a bit, you'd feel better or something. And I found it and read it. Oh, Ma, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

The girl was full-out crying when she handed Mirabelle the envelope. Her eyes scanned over the front of it, and then filled with tears when she saw the return address.

_1745 Sailorson Port _

That was Michael's captain's address. Mirabelle fingered the envelope and felt a little bulge. The ring.

Mirabelle patted the spot next to her on the couch, and Julia sat down quietly. "Your father's captain had his wedding ring sent back to me," Mirabelle explained. "I never opened it because I didn't want to hurt more. I'm sorry that you found it before I did."

"No, Ma, look inside the envelope," Julia replied. "There's...there's a letter. From Pa."

Mirabelle's eyes widened. She glanced back inside the envelope, and sure enough, there was a folded up paper inside. Her hand shook as she reached inside, pulled it out, and then unfolded the paper. It was yellow around the edges, and still smelled of sea salt even after all these years. Mirabelle read the letter silently, absorbing every word.

_Dear Belle, _

_I think my days are shortening, love. They tell me that we'll make it to the port on time to get medicine, but I fear I won't make it. I've fallen sick with a pretty wretched illness, and I've had it for a good three weeks now. That's why I haven't written any letters until this time. I figured I'd try for one more. _

_ I told Captain that in case I don't make it he should send my ring back. Cherish it, or give it to someone special. Find happiness. One day we'll meet in heaven, you and me, and we'll be together forever again. Until then, take care of our little Julia. I love that girl and she's barely a newborn. I love you, too, Belle. I remember that time I first met you, when I saw you smile, and then I was a goner. I'm glad it's me dying and not you, because I doubt I could live without you. You, though, you're strong. And you can do it. I know you can. Live your life, love. Don't wait for me to come back, because I might not. _

_ I love you. Stay strong. _

_ Michael _

When Mirabelle finished the letter, she folded it up without another word, and put it back in the envelope. She let it rest lightly in her hands for a few seconds, and then put it on the table, turned to Julia, and opened her arms.

Julia accepted the embrace, and Mirabelle softly kissed the top of the girl's head. Her tears dampened Julia's golden hair, but the younger girl didn't really seem to mind.

"We're gonna be okay, aren't we, Ma?" Julia asked quietly after a few seconds. "I know it's already been twenty years, and I'm old, but sometimes I feel really young without a dad. But we're gonna be okay."

Mirabelle nodded into Julia's hair. "Yes," she murmured. "We're going to be just fine, Julia."

"That was sort of like a closure, wasn't it, Ma?'

Mirabelle glanced at the letter. She had never received a final goodbye from her husband. It had haunted her for years, made her sadder than anything. She wasn't able to cherish his last words, she wasn't able to hold him tightly. But now she had the letter, and the ring. She could read the words, his words, his perfect words, over and over again before she went to sleep, and when she woke up, until the day came that she might be able to live without them.

"Yes, Julia," Mirabelle eventually replied. "That was a closure. A very lovely closure."

They sat there holding each other, crying quietly, enjoying the comfort of the other's arms, long after Mirabelle's mug of hot chocolate went cold.

• • •


End file.
